A Shard of Hope
by bugaboo107
Summary: Morelli's POV. Morelli goes to Steph's apartment, but sees something that wasn't meant for his eyes, he is in denial. Is oblivion bliss? [slight smut]


**I don't own anything.**

**WARNING: This is an angsty little ficlette. Enjoy, and please comment! This is my first time with smut, so don't be too harsh. Thanks.**

**A Shard of Hope**

**§§§**

**_He saw her expression, one of lust and desire for the man before her._**

Morelli had come to Stephanie's apartment after a long day's work in the uneventful Trenton police department, except for the few drunks and petty thieves. Office work bored the heck out of him, but it was something that came with the job—he had to give a full report of each offender he apprehended, each detainment, each arrest, each lock-up, whatever you wanted to call it.

But now, Friday, he finally had time. He had freshened up—a clean shave and shower and presentable clothing- gray half-zip-up sweater and jeans. He ran his long fingers through his hair, his version of brushing it. He came to her house in his truck with two pints of Ben-and-Jerry's ice cream—Chocolate Fudge Brownie™ for her, and Vanilla for him. They hadn't seen each other for the past month, due to his conflicting schedule working the night shift prowling the dangerous streets. He had seen her upon a few occasions, at Pino's and on the streets, but not enough time to 'settle down' and 'get it on', to say it simply. Strange that he had held it out for so long, eh? _So unlike the quick-talking, needy, possessed man of his high school years._ Well, the reason was his patience was building everyday, brick by brick, a result of Stephanie's constant reminders and careful guidance, a beautiful, motherly side of her that he wanted to see more of. He hadn't lashed out anyone for more than six months. What could he say, he was a pleaser, a yes-man, but only if he benefited. No altruism, everything was mutual. And everything that he did was for her, and only her, because he loved her. Something he finally admitted to himself over the past few years. As much as she angered him with her idiosyncrasies, her job, blowing up cars, 'playing' with Ranger, and doing other 'deeds' he was in love with her, it made her who she was- sweet and lovable. But _now_, his patience was wearing thin. She hadn't taught him how to go without fulfilling his sexual needs.

Tonight, he hoped they could catch up on some talking, about her becoming a _permanent fixture_ in his life. He knew that with some persuading and 'wild gorilla sex' he had a chance; _maybe_.

Stephanie Plum was _perfect_ for him. Attractive, smart, spunky, independent (_when need be_), and a bundle of joy to be with. While they shared much in common, she also complimented him in many areas.

He parked in his car, noticed the light in her room and smiled. He rode up the rickety elevator to her floor and strode down the musty, damp hallway to her front door. He paused, took a deep breath, and knocked. Even knowing her for this long, he always felt like a sweaty-palmed high school boy taking a girl out on his first date—butterflies (_more like hummingbirds_) fluttering in his stomach, rising to his throat.

When he didn't hear anything for a while, he decided that maybe she was taking a shower, taking a nap (even if it was nine at night, she wasn't your conventional Jersey girl), or listening to Metallica-- loud and blaring. Without waiting any longer, he went downstairs and outside of the apartment complex.

Morelli pulled down the fire escape iron-wrought ladder and slid the plastic shopping bag up on his shoulders. He put his foot on the rung and made sure it was sturdy before taking careful steps up the ladder.

One-by-one, he finally arrived at the small meshed platform outside her room. The room emitted a soft yellow glow through the linen curtains, and before he took a peek inside, he heard a giggle. One single chuckle. So sweet and innocence, yet so sexy and wanton that it made his heart melt and want her more, to push her under him and make love to her until the sun rose, until they were both sweaty and spent, laying side by side, chests heaving steadily. He smiled to himself; Stephanie was probably watching a silly show on television, or a Ghostbusters rerun maybe, or Miss Congeniality. He couldn't wait to join her. Action and adventure, in the movie, and in the sack.

§§§

His hand moved to the windowpane to knock, but then, he heard the low guttural sound. It sure as hell didn't sound like Stephanie, unless she got her vocal cords screwed up or something.

_A man._

The bubble around his innocent (okay, not so innocent) mind burst.

Doubts crossed his frenzied mind.

Her dad? (Heart-felt discussion about where her life was going?)

Albert Kloughn? (Talk about his marriage to Valerie?)

Eddie? (Good friend-to-friend talk)

Sally Sweet (as odd as it was that _a seven-foot tall drag queen/ part-time band member/ elementary school bus driver_ would be in her bedroom)?

Vincent Plum? (Ugh, slick and oily, scratch that idea)

He though of all the men in her life, not wanting to arrive at **one** person. He hoped, _no prayed_, that it was one of the above. He crossed his fingers in his mind and made a small plea to the 'big man upstairs'. _Please. Please don't let it be who I think it is._

**A shard of hope** remained in his mind.

Heart pounding unsteadily, he peered into the gap between the two curtains and the blood from his face drained away. His knuckled turned white. His limbs froze in the coldness. The plastic bag around his shoulder fell down his lifeless arm, softly onto the deck.

§§§

_**He saw her expression, one of lust and desire for the man before her. **_

He saw his 'cupcake' in the throes of passion, naked, tangled in a heap of limbs, entrapped, caged underneath **him**.

His archrival.

Archenemy.

In everything. Masculinity. Job. Reputation. Libido. _Stephanie._

He never thought that_ he_ would give her the time of day. That he would be with her in her bedroom, because Morelli knew that he would never commit to her. That bastard was so stuck-up and bigheaded, like he owned Stephanie like one of his cars or houses. Morelli hoped with every ounce of him that it was _his_ doing; that the bastard had made her too drunk to understand the merit of the situation. That he forced her. As much as that sounded unlike Morelli, that is what he wanted for his personal sake, so he could get retribution. That maybe they had spent a night out and got drunk, as friends, and it was an _accident_; if you could call it that—that both would regret the next morning. He _hoped_ that _he_ had made her intoxicated, so that he could kick _his_ ass senseless for his lack of moral judgment. Nonconsensual sex. **To make him pay for what he did to Stephanie. **

**A shard of hope** remained.

_But what Morelli saw dampened any hope. His insides began to break like a porcelain vase. At first, a small lightning bolt-shaped crack down the side, but then, more cracks until…until…_

Ranger moved, _grinded_, against her body in fluid, rhythmic motions, like the ebb-and-flow of the ocean waves against the shore, _but not deep enough_. These simple motions seemed to pulse electric currents throughout her body, making her arch her back into _him_, to thrust her chest into _his_, which seemed to mold into _his_… flawlessly. The contrasting texture and shades of their bodies also seemed to compliment each other, as much as Morelli didn't want to admit. Her graceful hands clung to his well-built biceps, holding on to him, like he was her life-support. Even with the hungry groans Ranger made, Morelli could tell that Ranger was holding back, from the expression on his face, not allowing his length to plunge to its maximum depth within her. Why? _Was he prolonging the experience? For her? For himself_? He heard her moan into _his_ mouth as _his_ tongue laved her full breasts, taking in each nipple and suckling it until it stood as taut as a flower bud. Then, suddenly, he stopped the movement of his lower body. _His_ face was concentrated on Stephanie, and _pleasing her_, as much as he hated to admit. He saw her delicate hands furiously cling to _his_ disheveled hair, her eyes fluttering as she cried out, "D-d-don't stop. I-I want all of you inside of me. Please."

"Babe," he muffled into her chest-bone, kissing it softly in the center, making her moan.

Morelli had never heard her in this state of mind, _vulnerable_, what he imagined as a small fawn standing in front of a rabid hunter, its big eyes dilated and fearful. She was at _his _disposable, as it seemed.

_The breaking of the glass began its tortuous journey. Any sign of hope inside of Morelli seemed to dim. The beacon ahead dimmed all too suddenly._

_He_ didn't listen to her pleas, the God-of-men _Ranger_ took his time giving each of her breasts the same deserving ministrations, making her writhe beneath him; before moving up to her mouth and captured her in a lustful kiss. This kiss became passionate, loving, not what Morelli expected, all in one—a duel between two that neither could win, nor could lose. A dance. His hands traveled to her bucking hips and stilled them as he moved against her once more, with more fury and fervor than before. Her body seemed to call him as it hummed in all its glory, its color rosy and flushed in the soft glow of the light. A satisfied smile crept onto her face.

_His_ tempo gradually increased, penetrating deeper and deeper into her depths, seeming to savor every centimeter, with the smug and gleeful look on his face. Or was it the look of love? Her hands scraped along his well-defined, muscled back, down, down further until she reached his… ass. At least it was covered partly by black boxers. At least Morelli didn't have to witness Ranger in all his naked glory. She secured her long legs around his hips, to stabilize herself, holding on for dear life as he crashed into her, wiping her face of any thoughtful expression. Only lust and passion filled her eyes. She lost all control, twisting her body to the excruciating pleasure.

"Rrrrrrraaaaanger, please."

"Are you sure, Babe?" he said mockingly, but soon trading in his teasing side by kissing the point right below her earlobe, whispering something that Morelli couldn't hear, but something that Stephanie liked from the expression he saw on her blushed, eager face. So beautiful, yet so painful to look at.

The tips of her white-knuckled fingers scraped raggedly against his bareness, pushing him deeper and deeper, and even the _God_ moaned in ecstasy. He cried out her name—low and ragged, his voice was tremulous, and Morelli was sure that the neighbors could hear their fiery, zealous love-making. Maybe even all of Trenton.

As much as he hated to admit, her face exuded something that she had never shown him to the same extent. Or maybe he never paid any attention to her. Having sex for his personal desire, with no idea of how she felt. As long as she screamed his name, he was happy. A complacent fool.

Ranger was different.

_Their_ love-making was careful, yet impassioned. He consciously held back for her to enjoy the sex as much as _he_ did. _Symbiotic relationship._

A sparkle in her clouded, hooded aquamarine eyes that reflected _his_ face. _His_ determined face. _His affectionate_.

Stephanie met Ranger thrust for thrust in their leisured pace.

Ranger moved his hands off the bed, and moved them to her tightly gripped hands on the bed. He put her hands in his, and held them as she began to climax. He never slowed the pace, allowing her to enjoy every second of it, seeming to sacrifice his personal fulfillment, something that Morelli could never do. He could see Ranger bit his lower lip as Stephanie reached her breaking point.

"Ranger, I'm coming… you're so far in."

_He_ said nothing, keeping the same pace, but Morelli knew what she was saying. She floundered as the building orgasm finally arrived, sending a series of tumultuous earthquakes throughout her body. She cried out loudly before silencing herself into Ranger's shoulder blade as the aftershocks racked her body.

_That_ was when Morelli noticed the chain of bite marks and scratched on and around Ranger's shoulder. _Had they done this before? Tonight? Last night? This past week?_

At last, Ranger came too. He spurted into her and Stephanie jolted as though a strong electric current vibrated through her His head came away from hers slightly, tilting back, as he cried out her name, and simultaneously collapsed against her. The finale. The last explosion. The final rush of adrenaline.

§§§

Their hearts pounding in tandem, one above another.

He didn't pull out afterwards. He stayed inside, but moved to her side, moving her with him. They put their arms around each other and engaged in another kiss. A slow, tortuous kiss. For what seemed like eons, Ranger finally pulled out, earning him a low, throaty moan. He placed a series of kissed down the bridge of her nose, and she wriggled it in return. Ranger laughed quietly.

He kissed her on her hairline, temple, each eyelid, cheeks—virtually no spot was left unmarred. Stephanie sloppily returned his kisses. Morelli saw Ranger squirm slightly, but not to pain and discomfort, but fun and amusement. Playful.

He saw Stephanie move her hands down to his hip, and still it, before turning her back on him. She molded her derriere into his lap, bringing his hand into hers. She kissed each of his fingertips sensuously before bringing the bounded hands together to her chest. Ranger complied with every gesture, and even when he was facing away from the window, Morelli saw the side of his face twitch.

A smile. One of pure bliss. Nothing could wipe it away. _He_ let out a husky moan. Probably because his penis was jammed up her ass!

But Morelli stood there immobile. He couldn't jump in on them, their steamy escapade. He couldn't. For reasons he would never be able to explain. The forces of love always prevailed.

Then, he heard Ranger muffle into Stephanie's sexy, tousled hair, "Te quiero, babe. Nada cambiará era," pressing her tighter into him, both moaning.

From the limited Spanish he took in high school, he knew what that meant, even if he didn't, that tone of voice that Ranger used gave it all away. Not lust, love.

But, Morelli felt slightly disgusted and hurt, didn't feel an ounce of jealously or hate. He felt like he had intruded. Upon something sacred. He didn't know how long he been there, standing in the iciness of autumn, but he was strangely impassive, as though the coldness had numbed him physically and mentally. He didn't feel like pounding into the apartment, gun-drawn and all. He didn't feel like strangling Ranger. He didn't feel like punching a wall and letting his frustration and revulsion pour out in the form of blood.

He felt alone and fearful. Alone because he had lost the girl of his dreams (_and nightmares…_ scratch that… it just ruined the whole mood of the story) and fearful because he was alone. The feeling that he had lost something as precious to him as his heart. **It was his heart.**

§§§

**He had lost what was more dear to him than life itself. **

He stood in the coldness for a couple beats more before stepping silently down the stairs, facing the parking lot; he didn't even care that he wasn't holding on to the hand-bars. Nothing really mattered.

He landed on the ground safety, much to his surprise, and turned around slowly. He looked up at the only lit room in the complex and said, "Stephanie, I hope you're happy," truly meaning every word.

He didn't feel jealously or hate, because he wanted what was best for Stephanie Plum.

He wanted her to be happy. He saw her expression. He saw the love in her eyes. The passion.

Even at his expense, because he could no longer be selfish. Those years were long gone. He had witnessed too much as a police officer to be selfish.

Tonight, he saw two lovers. Two lovers deeply and madly in love with each other, and he knew that once that happened, nothing could break the love.

_Nothing. _

Maybe he wasn't jealous or angry because he had felt it one point in his life. Something strong and invincible.

But everything was gone now.

_The one woman that made him feel something was gone. After all the years using women for him sexual needs, he had found the one that changed him, but now, she was gone. She had slipped through his fingers like fine sand, and he hadn't even seen it. He had been to caught up in himself, in his job to notice. _

_He hadn't even seen their 'relationship' spiral downward into the deep chasm. _

_The porcelain vase was shattered. Only one small shard stood amidst the fallen sentinels, the last one; only one piece of his shattered mind allowed him to walk away from the scene, back to his dreary life, back into his nonexistent form._

Someday, he would find the light again.

Someday, he would build upon the **shard of hope**, but not tonight. Not for a long while.

§§§

Stephanie woke up the next morning to the beam of sunlight that shone through the opening between the curtains. She woke up in a heap of damp sheets, something that she put on her things-to-do-this-week. It was damp with bodily fluids she didn't even want to think about, only smiled at the thought of last night. Ranger. What he had said to her.

She knew he would be gone by now, but she knew he had stayed with her for the most part of the night. She felt his warm breath against her flushed skin when she woke up with nothing on her except his warm arms to keep her warm.

She stretched in her bed before arising to open to window for fresh air. She pulled it open and was shortly blinded by the sunlight. After adjusting, she noticed something on the fire escape.

A plastic bag, with something in it.

She looked at the viscous mess or brown and white on the deck and rolled her eyes. It was her favorite flavor of ice cream and only few knew. Lula. Mary Lou. Morelli.

Since the other two would rather eat it that climb up the tortuous fire escape to share it with me, it was Morelli's doing.

**A joke**.

§§§

**Epilogue**

She would never know because he would never mention it. Nor would she mention the night. Morelli would never fell the same about her again. Everything had changed. He gave her a polite smile, or a soft touch on the cheek, but the distance between them stayed far.

He couldn't handle that Ranger had taken her from him, they man who had everything; and that _they_ loved each other.

Maybe if he hadn't witnessed that night, things would still be alright. Oblivion and ignorance was bliss sometimes.

He became somewhat of a workaholic for the next few months, and didn't care if it was in the office or on the streets. If he could numb himself, all was well. At night, he drank himself into oblivion, something that he had put aside since his bingeing days in college. A Corona or two could always clear his mind. A walk in the park with Bob.

After all, only one shard of hope remained, and the vase wasn't ready to be mended yet.

Maybe, one day she would return to him.

Maybe, the vase would never be mended.

Maybe his heart would never heal.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

**Te quiero, babe. Nada cambiará era. **

**I love you, babe. Nothing will change that.**

**I hope you enjoyed this short fic. Comments are much appreciated. **

**::C::**


End file.
